The Wall Street man was standing at the curb when a friend from his old home town, whom he hadn’t seen in years, approached.

They embraced but the friend seethed mighty serious. “I’m awful sorry to tell you this,” said the visitor, “but your old and dear Aunt Cecily is in jail. “Glad you told me,” said the broker. “It’s good to hear she’s provided for.”

Every father was a kid once . . . and every mother is trying to make the neighbors believe she is still one.